


Affirm

by Trash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Trans!character, affirming Dean, ftm!sam, underage (Sam is 15)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was born in the wrong body. Dean doesn't care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affirm

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one-shot reflecting my current state of mind.

Sam stands in front of the warped motel mirror and stares at his reflection. He tugs his shirt down, aware of the most recent growth spurt meaning dad will have to buy him yet more clothes. Luckily, the guy's section is always cheaper, and the need for frugality is one thing John Winchester understands. 

His ribs ache, and Dean will chew him out for strapping his tits down with bandages again but really. What other choice is there? He was lucky for a long time, hiding his b-cup with a sportsbra, but he has long since outgrown that and dad won't buy another one no matter his protests that it'll be much better for hunting.

"Sammy, I can just about afford to keep a roof over our head, gas in the car and food in our bellies. You got a bra, don't you?"

"Yessir," Sam had said, the need for an argument boiling up inside him. He kept a lid on it until he was alone with Dean. "Spent a shittonne of money on getting the impala fixed, but can't afford thirty bucks for a good bra? What the fuck, man?"

Dean had sighed. "If it bothers you so much, hustle pool like the rest of us."

Sam hated it, hated the eyes on him as he leaned over the pool table, ass in the air and tits pushed together. He handled the cue like a cock in a porno, rubbing his hands over the worn wood with his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. The money he left with should have been worth it, but it wasn't. 

He keeps the money in the bottom of his duffle, rolled in an old map. Soon enough he'll have the money for a real binder. In the mean time, drug store bandages and a couple of pins will have to do. 

Sam turns to the side and smooths his shirt down. The pockets give plausible deniability for the bulk of his chest, but the plaid makes him look like a lesbian. He asks Dean his opinion. 

"No, you don't look like a lesbian. I wear plaid. Any man can, if you're cool enough. Which, as my brother, you are by default." Dean goes back to channel surfing, but half his attention is still on Sam. "You need a haircut."

Sam bristles. "Do not."

"How old are you, fifteen or five? Yes you do. Lemme do it."

"With your clippers? Fuck no."

Dean rolls his eyes and holds up his hands. "Okay, touchy." He studies Sam carefully for a minute. "You're handsome like that, with your boyband hair. Come here."

Sam steps away from the mirror and sits on their bed. Dad won't be home for at least another two nights, so Dean took his bed. "Closest to the door," he had said by way of explanation. Even with dad there it's always been Dean's job to protect Sam, and when he's gone Dean takes it extra seriously. 

But after one night in his own bed, Sam had crawled under Dean's covers and into his arms. If Dean minded he didn't say anything. 

Now, with a shitty western on the TV, Dean pulls Sam close to him, cradled him in his arms. "You're getting way tall," he comments idly, hands running down Sam's body. 

"Mmm."

"Taller than me already," Dean says. 

"Mmm," Sam agrees. Dean's touch sets every nerve on fire, his body coming to life. "Will you kiss me?"

And Dean does.


End file.
